The Stargazers
by TakeHomeJulie
Summary: AU where Daryl is drunk and happens to stumble over a particularly pretty blonde who's watching the stars. A fanfiction about self-discovery, recovery and falling in love, and it all begins with the stars. {Bethyl} NO LONGER A ONE-SHOT.
1. The Stargazers

**AU where Hershel is still a hopeless drunk, Beth is deeply sad and Daryl might be a little hopelessly drunk himself.**

**Please review!**

The valley was her small hideaway from the world, including her family. She'd hike up her some nights with a blanket, a bottle of water and a sandwich to get away from the lights of the city. She'd lie down her blanket and collapse on it, surrounded by flowers and thriving plants.

It was the best thing to be alone with her own thoughts just to think and try to make constellations from the stars even if they weren't there. Sometimes she'd pretend she was stargazing with a boy who'd hold her hand and tell her that she was shining as bright as the shooting star that crossed the beautiful sky.

She'd try to spot Jupiter and Venus but she wasn't an astronomer for a reason. She probably could've been if she wanted to; studied enough. She loved trying to match the stars together to make her name but the furthest she ever got was 'Beth Gre' and even after that, she kept trying but usually never made it past the first letter of her last name.

Maggie never bothered to ask where she went whenever she left the house with her backpack and no explanation.

Maybe they knew where she went, I mean, what possible trouble could the teenager get into?

Beth stared up at the sky, focused on counting each freckle in the night, trying to piece together constellations like a dot-to-dot in a children's activity book.

Despite a drunk wandering into the field, the night couldn't be more perfect. The blonde hadn't noticed though, too wrapped up in her thoughts to notice.

It was a soulless night of sleeping people in their beds, one teenager finding beauty in things others couldn't and one man with thoughts more twisted than a pair of earphones.

The drunk grew closer and closer, eventually cursing out loud as he tricked over her small body.

Immediately she leant up, eyes wide in fear. "What are you doing? Are you okay?" she asked, reaching out to touch him. "Sir, are you drunk? You smell of alcohol."

"I'm fine!" he grumbled, knocking away her arm. "What are ya doing lying on the floor?"

"What are you doing stumbling around drunk in a field?" she countered, helping him lean up despite his protests.

"Maggie always said that drinking water helps," she said, leaving the man's side to find her bottle.

When she finally found it, she ran back over.

Beth held it to his lips, demanding he drink. "Here," she said, watching his gulp it down uneasily. "There we go."

The man gave her a quizzical look before muttering a quick thanks.

"Do you need help getting home?" she asked, her hand holding his bicep to keep him steady. "My truck is back at the farm, I could give you a ride."

Noticing his concern, she added, "If you want that is."

The man shook his head in protest. "Nah, rather trip over more blondes than go home to that sh-"

"No cussing," she said, slapping his knee lightly.

He just nodded.

"I've never been drunk before," she admitted, biting her lip. "I'm Beth, by the way."

He took her confident hand in his before shaking it. "Daryl."

"Like, Daryl Dixon?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ya heard of me?"

"Only the bad stuff," she replied quietly. "I don' believe it though, too smart. Gotta judge someone for myself. Besides, from the way I hear it, your dad is the real bad one."

Daryl brought the bottle of water to his lips, sipping it slowly. "Slowly turning into 'im though."

"A fool would believe that but not me. See, I'm not a fool, Mr. Dixon."

"That so?" he asked, allowing himself to smirk at her.

"It is," she insisted. "Are you hungry? I have a sandwich if you want. Might help settle your stomach," she offered, digging around in her backpack before producing a few slices of something between bread. "Here we go; chicken and cheese."

Without hesitation, she handed it to him. "You're probably hungry," she said, thrusting it at him. "Go ahead, take it.

So he took it.

Beth watched as he ate it, staring at him with curious eyes.

He paused mid-bite, meeting her eyes. "What?"

"Never been with someone else here before. Usually it's my special spot, where I come to get away from it all. It's nice to have someone else here, though. I'm so used to being alone. It's nice."

Daryl nodded, returning his attention back to the food in his hands.

"I just thought the first time I brought someone up here it would be a boy that I love-"

"Sorry I ruined it," he grumbled, taking another bite of bread, chicken and cheese.

"No!" she said softly, "You didn't ruin it. I just didn't imagine it going like this. I mean, neither of us probably did."

Daryl didn't say anything, just finished the sandwich and wiped his hands on his jeans.

"Thanks."

"No problem," she said, smiling. "So, do you wanna maybe stargaze with me? It'd be nice to have some company. I mean, if you'd rather go and fall over more blondes in secluded fields, that's fine with me too. I just thought it'd be nice to offer."

He was in no position to turn her down in his drunken state so he lied down beside her on his back.

"They're pretty, hey?" she asked, her voice as sweet as sugar. "It's nice to escape the lights of the city. Can't see the stars like this with all those lights."

He didn't say anything, just stiffens when she slides her hand into his.

"I don't know why anyone would wanna live in the city," she continued. "Can't see the night sky, the beauty of it all. It's kind of sad."

Daryl squeezed her hand because he's drunk and she's cute and of all the blondes lying in secluded fields, he was glad he tripped over her.

"Sometimes, I used to pretend I was a star. Just as a kid, before my mother died. She used to tell me I shined brighter than any of the stars in the sky and that it was the reason why I had such blonde hair; I was a star. It was nice as a kid but now it seems so foolish."

He noticed the way she inched closer to him but doesn't say anything. It was a cold night, she was probably looking for warmth.

"I never wanted to drink as a kid because my dad was an alcoholic. I used to look at him whenever he wasn't sober and think _'I don't wanna be like him'_. I think that's why I've never drank. Never wanted to be like him, ever. I didn't think it was fair being an alcoholic; could never do it to my family."

Daryl grunted in reply, not knowing what to say.

"Sorry, I'm rambling and you're drunk so it probably isn't easy for you to keep up. I'll stop, Daryl."

"S'okay," he said, turning his head to look at her.

Beth turned her own head to meet his eyes and smiled at him warmly before looking back up at the darkness surrounding them.

"Maggie-my older sister- drinks but never a lot because I hate it. I remember on her twenty-first she came home drunk and I started crying and yelling but I was about seventeen and she collapsed on the ground and I called an ambulance. They came to get her and the next morning I didn't even go to see her in the hospital because I was so mad and we didn't speak for three weeks."

Beth paused, glancing at him to see if he was still listening before she continued talking. "I felt silly avoiding her and I made Shawn- my older brother- drive me to school each day for those three weeks even though it was in the opposite direction of where he worked and I think he was kinda annoyed at me for it but I'm God awfully stubborn. Maggie never got drunk after that, she always had coke when she goes out with her friends. I feel bad for it because it's my fault I'm ruining her fun."

The blonde tugged on the top of her shirt and brought it to her eyes to wipe them gently. Daryl had barely noticed she was crying but when he did, he grasped her hand a little tighter hoping it gave her some sort of comfort.

"I'll never drink," she said quieter. "People drink to forget, not to have fun. Mum used to tell me that Daddy drunk because he was sad, never had a good life, but when he did drink, he never remembered us and I know that I used to think he wanted to forget me but I'll never know if it's true because I'll never ask him. Tomorrow, you probably won't remember me but it's okay because I'm used to."

"I-I don't want to forget you."

It sounded ridiculous and so out of character but he had to say it, had to bring some sort of hope and warmth to the crying blonde.

"Thanks, Daryl Dixon."

He stayed silent, her small frame snuggling up closer.

"Sorry," she sniffed, wrapping a shaking arm around his waist, "it's cold."

But being honest, Daryl didn't mind, and being honest, neither did Beth.


	2. Anaesthetic

**{Mentions of depression and suicide. You've been warned.}**

When Beth Greene finally made it home that night, not only was Maggie waiting up for her but the house was lit up like a Christmas tree.

Her sister stared at her, arms crossed in front of her as she sat on the arm of their couch. Beth tried not to show how nervous she was but she couldn't, her whole body was shaking.

"This is getting ridiculous, Beth," she said, automatically fulfilling the role of protective older sibling. "One night a week, I can understand but this is the second time."

"It's just stargazing, Maggie," Beth defended, keeping her voice as calm as possible. "I'm not hurting anyone, ain't got no secret boyfriend you haven't heard about."

"I worry about you. After mum died, you haven't been the same. I mean, we've lost people before. Heck, we lose daddy every time he gets drunk. I'm the only one keeping this family together. One of you is never sober and the other is suicidal. I'm just trying to protect you."

Beth nodded, glazing down at the empty bottle sitting on the coffee table. "He's here, isn't he?" she asked cautiously.

"Upstairs, drank a bottle then went to the bar. Just got back," Maggie replied, tears blurring her vision. "He was asking about you."

"Yeah?" she said, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear that had escaped from her braid. "What'd he say?"

"Asked if we could visit you."

Beth nodded. She'd been in and out of clinics for the past thirteen months, sharing the white rooms with other friendly but mentally ill patients.

"He doesn't know you're out," Maggie choked, shattering the still silence. "Thinks you're still sick."

"I'm mentally ill," Beth scoffed. "I'm not sick."

"Your brain is."

"I'm sad, Maggie," the blonde insisted. "I'm not sick, neither is my brain. Is that what you told people when they asked where I was? You tell 'em I was in some real good hospital that could cure my sickness?"

Her sister blinked a few times at her before shaking her head. "Don't say that. You're not a plague, Bethy, you're a person. You're my sister, I'm not scared of what you are."

"Well then stop acting like it. It wasn't me who put me in the hospital, it was you," she said, pointing an accusing finger. "Dad gets drunk to forget, I'm suicidal, what about you? What's your fatal flaw?"

"What's gotten into you?" her sister hissed, rising from her seat. "Why are talking like this?"

"You're a liar," Beth spat, tears blurring her vision. "You told everyone Shawn got some big job upstate but really he just left. He left because our family is falling apart. Our family is falling apart and we're not the glue that can put it back together, Mags."

Maggie approached her, offering her the first hug she'd have in almost six months and Beth fell into it, grateful for the comfort.

"Please don't send me back," she cried. "I don't wanna go back."

"Oh, Beth," her sister soothed, tightening her grip on her.

"I can't go back there, please don't send me back..." slowly her words drifted into a whispered chant and the sisters held each other until there was a knock at the door.

Maggie separated from her sister, walking quickly. "I got it, Beth, go upstairs."

"What if it's them?" she asked, bringing her hands to rest of either of her cheeks. "What if they're here to collect me?"

"Beth," her sister ordered, voice firm. "Go upstairs, I'll see who it is."

When Maggie opened it a familiar blanket was sitting on the step, accompanied by the reek of alcohol.

Immediately the older sibling turned to fix Beth a glare. "You go stargazing with alcoholics now, do you?"

"None of your business," Beth bit out. "It's nice to have some company when everyone walks around you like your porcelain. Plus, this guy doesn't wanna forget me, unlike you and daddy."

"Don't bring me into this," Maggie replied, furrowing her eyebrows. "You're the one who tried to kill herself, not me. If you don't want to be treated like a child, then I won't treat you like one."

"Good!"

"I did tell everyone you were in a hospital," her sister admitted. "I told them you were in Florida getting treatment for a skin condition. And Shawn didn't leave because of us, he left because of you. He left because you were trying to die in every way possible and he couldn't deal with that."

"It's not like I purposely crashed my car or fell asleep into the tub, Mags," she defended, wounded at her sister's honesty.

"You sent the barn on fire with yourself inside. You're lucky I got home to save you."

"I didn't want to be saved!" Beth shrieked. "You saved me then sent me to the clinic. I was there for thirteen months and you didn't even come visit for Christmas. Everyone else got a visitor but me. I celebrated with my psychiatrist, Rosita."

Maggie stared at her, beginning to cry. "I-I'm sorry," she croaked.

"They put me on a new pill after that," Beth choked. "Something to help me feel loved. It was artificial but it was better than nothing at all. I can understand daddy not coming to see me, he barely remembers who I am now, but you?" she said quietly, her voice laced with accusation. " I was counting on you."

"How many pills are you on? They told me three."

"Five," Beth said. "B-But I rarely take them."

"You have to take them. Your doctor said you had to take each pill once a day. If you don't then you have to go back to the clinic."

Beth chewed at her raw bottom lip, maintaining her stubbornness. "I'm not taking them," she stated. "They make me see stuff, horrible things."

"Like what?"

"Mum," the blonde dismayed. "They make me see mum."

"How is that horrible? I thought you'd like that?" her sister said softly. "I mean, you get to see her again."

Beth met her sister's eyes, not disguising the pain in them. "They make me see _mum,_" she insisted, hoping her sister understood. She swallowed the anxiety in her throat, thinking back to her conversation with Daryl Dixon. She'd failed to mention her depression, her suicide attempts and that she'd just got back from Maine after spending thirteen months being treating in a clinic. He failed to mention the hospital band still plaguing her wrist.

She was glad he hadn't asked her about it; hadn't asked her why she had bracelets in numerous numbers piled upon each wrist and why she had burns running up the left side of her neck. The bracelets were to hide the scars and the burns were from setting the barn on fire while she sat on the barn loft, hidden in the hay bundles. She remembered being dragged out by Maggie, who was crying, and she remembered sitting as- on that filthy brown couch, which she hated- the days went by, listening to her sister's pleas but she didn't talk because for a while her voice was gravelly much like a smoker's from the fumes she'd inhaled in the fire.

"This house doesn't even feel like home anymore," her sister breathed. "Not since mum died, not since dad touched the bottle again, not since you had to leave."

"I know," Beth croaked.

"I can't figure out why we're left behind to pick up the pieces, Bethy. Every single time daddy leaves, it starts over all again. We're no better than them Dixons, right? I mean, got an alcoholic father and a broken family."

"He doesn't hit us though," the blonde squeaked. "Hasn't ever laid a finger on us. That's gotta count for something, okay?"

The elder sister nodded, pursing her lips tightly into a thin smile. "But he forgets us," she whispered, so only Beth could hear. "He was barely sober when you were in the clinic. Never came home more times than I can count, got brought home by Rick Grimes more times than I can count."

"Rick came here?" she asked. "How's the baby?"

"She's good-"

"It's a girl?" Beth asked. "What's her name?"

"They named her Judith Ann Grimes. Judith for one of Carl's school teachers and Ann for mum. Said they wanted to honour her somehow. Carl said he wants you to get better so you can babysit him again but Rick told him it wasn't going to happen for a while because you were sick."

Beth frowned but nodded. "Could I see Judy one day? Hey, Mags, maybe we can-"

"Not going to happen," her sister said. "You got an appointment with Rosita then a double date."

"A double date? I thought I wasn't allowed to leave the house?"

"I changed my mind. I thought you'd want to get out there. Besides, Glenn likes the guy and that's good enough for me. We're meeting at Tara's bar for drinks."

"I don't want to drink," Beth said quickly. She'd been surrounded by booze her whole life and she was never going to touch it, even if her life depended on it. "Messes with my pills."

"Right," her sister said slowly. "Look you should get to bed, it's been a rough night. Try not to wake daddy, he's probably still drinking and you know how angry he gets when he's had a bit to drink."

Beth wanted to laugh. Describing how much their father drank with something like 'a bit' was ridiculous. He just about drank himself into an early grave and if he kept going, she wasn't sure if his liver could handle it. Since losing Annette, their whole family had just about fallen apart. Shawn left, saying he couldn't deal with their dysfunction anymore leaving Maggie- wonderful Maggie- to pick up the pieces. She'd gotten herself a job to pay for Beth's hospital bills, put Beth through her last five months of high school and found somewhere for her to go to help with her 'problems', raised money for the prescriptions her sister had to take and up kept the farm single-handedly.

If there was a better big sister to be found, Beth would be dumbfounded.

Sure, she loved her dad but he wasn't going to be winning any father-of-the-year awards. He was the father, the one who was meant to look after them when Annette died, but instead he's spiralled into the bottle of the bottom, this time not likely to pull himself back out.

Beth walked softly upstairs to her room. She'd only gotten back from Maine two months ago and the whole room had changed dramatically. Her posters and the mirror in her bathroom were gone and Maggie insisted she wax instead of shave because she couldn't yet be trusted with razors- all a part of Rosita's orders.

Her room which had once been a light pink was now yellow, which her sister had explained was to bring her comfort. She'd read somewhere that people with depression slept easier when surrounded by brighter colours. Beth knew it wasn't true but she was thankful nonetheless. The teddies on her bed were gone because Rosita said an important part of growing up was getting over childhood toys, her bedside table had locks on each drawer which she'd have to ask Maggie for the keys to, Maggie had gone shopping for all new clothes consisting of dresses and lots of floral prints.

She was a prisoner in her own house, she couldn't even pick out her own darn clothes.

That night, Beth was just thankful to be in bed, away from painful family talks with her sister and drunken chats with her father.

The sun kissed her skin for the third morning in a row and she let out a yawn. She'd never tell Maggie she hadn't slept in those three days, that the pills gave her nightmares and she felt herself slowly losing her mind.

Those would wait for Rosita, the only person she could confide in. Hey, maybe they'd give her another pill for that too.

**Please review, let me know what you think. This went in a completely different direction then I thought it would but I like it so let me know if you wanna see more of this or whatever.**

**Until next chapter,**

**Rachel.**


	3. Consuming

"How are you doing, Elizabeth?" asked the soft voice. "Maggie said you've been more up and about lately. That's good. I like to hear you've made progress."

The blonde plaited a string of her hair, nodding along as Rosita talked. "I-I'm good. Going out tonight with Maggie to a bar on a double date."

"A bar? How do you feel about that?" Rosita asked, looking at the papers in front of her with intent.

"I don't know," she sighed, releasing the string of hair. "I mean, I'm not going to drink, if that's what you're asking. I'm just scared about going. Again, thanks for flying in to talk to me."

"Maine was a little boring for me," she smiled. "Glad I could meet with you again, Beth. It's nice to see how you've progressed. Maggie suggested I skype with you while I'm in Maine, once a month. Would that be okay?"

"Yeah, that'd be great, Rosie," the blonde said, offering her own smile.

"Okay," Rosita said, maintaining her friendly smirk. "So, how are the pills? Any of the usual side-affects or have those worn off since we've last spoken?"

"I haven't been taking them," she muttered.

Her therapist nodded, scribbling something down. "Is there a reason for that?"

"I don't feel like myself whenever I take them, they just detach me from who I really am."

"Have you been taking the Zoloft?" Rosita pressed, her pen hitting the paper as she made a few notes in Beth's file.

The blonde let out a deep breath. "The anti-depressant? No."

"What about the Prozac?"

"No," she repeated.

"Is there a reason? Last time you mentioned that you saw your mother, can you expand on that?"

"I found her," Beth said, blinking away at the tears that began to well in her eyes. "When she died, I mean. She'd fallen off the ladder in the barn, her body was all disfigured."

"Yes, I think you mentioned that last time we spoke. Is that why you tried to burn down the barn?"

"I thought maybe if I got rid of it, she'd come back, you know?"

Rosita nodded again, her lips set into a tight line as she browsed through the blonde's files for something. "You'd thought you'd get rid of it with yourself inside, Beth?"

"I guess," she said, bringing her knees to her chest as she faced the woman in front of her. "But, these nightmares, they're of her, reaching for me and screaming. I remember hearing her scream from the house when I was in the kitchen."

"In the kitchen when you accidently sliced your finger. What happens in these dreams? These nightmares, you said?" Rosita asked, biting down on her pen as she watched Beth. "Always the same nightmare or different?"

"I just see her. It's more of a memory, like I won't let myself forget it. I hear her scream, slice my finger- there's blood everyway, pooling on the kitchen counter all over the carrots I was chopping- and when I walk outside, holding my shirt to my finger, I go to the barn and she's in there, head bent and the bone is still sticking out in her arm," she cried, accepting a tissue from her therapist. "Then I wake up."

"These nightmares are a side-effect of the pills; they should subside in a few weeks. I think we've touched on this a couple times, is there anything you want to talk about?"

"The bar and Maggie and alcohol," she said quickly, needing to avoid the topic of her mother.

"So let's start with a scenario, you're not going to drink at this bar but Maggie does. She orders a couple of light beers for everyone, including yourself, but because you don't drink yours, she drinks them both. What do you do, then, Beth?"

"I don't know, I won't yell at her, she's allowed to have fun. I'm just scared that alcohol is her way of coping, like my dad. I don't want to be like him, I don't Maggie to be like him."

Her therapist smiled at her, shaking her head slowly. "You have every reason to fear that, it's natural. Human nature makes us afraid, don't be ashamed about that. So, a double date? Do you have any fears about this? I know how this must frighten you."

"I don't know," she repeated. "Can't be that bad, I keep telling myself that but it's taking a while to sink in. Maggie said I can meet her boyfriend, Glenn."

"You've never met him before now?"

"No, didn't know she had a boyfriend until last night, when she brought up the double date."

"How does that make you feel? Untrusted?"

Beth shrugged, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "She didn't want me to feel replaced, I guess. I forgive her because she needed someone. I was gone for thirteen months and daddy's always drunk."

"Your dad Hershel right? You talked about him in our group session, when you paired up with Zach, do you remember that?"

The blonde tilted her head, thinking. "I think, I'm not too sure."

"You described him here as 'the pretty boy'? When we asked you to do reflections on the person you were paired up. It might soothe you to know that he left a week after you did, stopped doing drugs. He's completely clean now, started applying to colleges in the area but so far no luck."

"That's good, I'm happy for him, I hope he gets accepted soon."

Rosita pushed her glasses further up her nose, letting out a light laugh. "Compassion," she said. "That's what you're feeling. I understand your depression took that from you for a while, it's a good sign that you're getting it back. Compassion is sympathy for others."

"I feel better, like it isn't consuming me anymore," she choked. "Like, maybe I have a better chance at this, you know? If daddy would quit his drinking, maybe we'd go back to normal."

"I know I'm your therapist and this is the last thing you need me to say but you still have a long while to go. Feeling things again is just the first step."

Beth cleared her throat to clear the air, her eyes burning. "I know but I'm trying, aren't I? I'm going out tonight, to a bar of all places and Maggie's setting me up with a guy and we talked last night, about the clinic and Christmas."

"How'd she feel about it?"

"I told her how it hurt me that she didn't visit me and she agreed. She apologised, said she was sorry."

"Did she give you a reason for not being there? I know it was your first Christmas apart since you were born."

Beth chewed at her finger nail nervously, glancing up slowly. "Yeah, we haven't been separated ever on family holidays. It was the first. I guess she couldn't fly in, maybe flights were too much for her or maybe she had to spend it with dad, he was probably drunk and couldn't be trusted to stay home by himself."

"That's a lot of maybes."

"I'm not exactly in a place to be certain about things," Beth replied, eyeing Rosita as she scribbled a few notes in her book. "Or maybe she spent it with some family friends or maybe Glenn. She sent me a present though so it's not like she forgot."

"Glenn? That's her boyfriend's name?"

There was more scribbling in Rosita's book.

"Yes," she answered. "This morning, on the way over she told me that they met at a bar. He took her home because her friend- her ride- left her there and she was vomiting behind some trash cans."

"She got drunk?" Rosita asked, eyebrows raised.

"She didn't say that directly because she knows it upsets me but I know what she meant. Glenn found her and as Maggie said 'being the nice guy he is', he drove her home."

Her therapist fixed her with a look before slowly nodded. "So, let's talk about this. You said it upsets you, I've spent thirteen months guiding you and working on sorting through your struggles but we've never properly touched on this. Your father, Hershel, spiralled into the bottom of the bottle, much like before Maggie and yourself were born, and never allowed alcohol in the house. He picked up the bottle again after your mother fell from the ladder in July then you were checked into the clinic in August after the barn incident-"

"It wasn't an incident, I tried to kill myself," Beth interrupted, almost letting out a strangled laugh at Rosita's wording.

"That's the first time I've heard you admit that, Beth," Rosie said, pressing her index finger to her tongue as she flipped through the papers in her lap. "Here you said that you set the barn on fire, with yourself inside, but the first time I've heard you say 'I tired to kill myself' was just then."

"Not like I can hide the fact I want to die."

Rosita fixed the blonde with a glare, pushing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. "Maggie said, when she checked you into the clinic, that she wasn't sure if it had been a suicide attempt."

"I poured petrol on the floor, struck a match and sat up in the hay bales so no-one would know I was inside. Wasn't like it could've been an accident."

"What about your father? Does he know you're home yet?"

"When I got home, Mags said he'd been asking to visit me. I've been home two months and he hasn't noticed yet, too busy drinking himself into an early grave."

"Let's talk about New Years, do you remember that?"

"Yeah, January 1st, I kissed Noah when the clock struck twelve."

"That was when Dale died, do you remember him?"

"We talked once, he told me about his wife's death."

"You told me that you read something about stars," Rosita said softly. "You said that there was a theory that stars were really people and in each star was a universe which contained all their memories and hopes and dreams. You said that maybe your mother was up there."

"Yes," Beth answered nervously.

"Then you said you wanted to be a star," her therapist continued. "So, if your mother is up there, she's dead now, does that mean you want to die?"

"I want to be a star," Beth beamed. "My mother used to tell me I was a star and that's why my hair was so blonde, because I was meant to be up in the night sky, lighting it up and people would see me and make wishes."

The woman across from her chewed on the end of her pen again, a habit she had yet to kick. Beth could tell she was a smoker, could usually smell the tobacco on her clothes which she'd obviously lathered in perfume trying to disguise the stench.

"You're still smoking," Beth said quietly. "You'd promised you'd stop."

"Beth..." Rosita warned. "This isn't about me, we're here for you."

"You promised," Beth hissed. "If I got out of the clinic, you'd quit your smoking, Rosie. I got out of the clinic and I can still smell the cigarettes on you, again."

"Do people who break promises anger you?"

"Don't turn this on me!" the blonde yelled, standing from her seat. "You promised me if I got better you would too. I did my part, Rosie."

Her therapist stood and turned for the door, maintaining her polite smile which was slowly fading. "You should go; your sister is outside waiting for you."

Maggie was waiting in the car, flipping through a magazine she'd collected in the foyer on loving your suicidal family member or something like that.

Beth joined her, taking her seat in the passenger seat.

"How was it?" her sister asked, genuinely.

Beth turned to meet her gaze, already feeling herself begin to cry again. "It was okay, Mags," she soothed. "We talked about Glenn and the double-date tonight and yeah. She's leaving again for Maine tonight but we're going to skype once a month just so she can check on me."

"That's great news."

"She took me off one of my pills but I have to keep taking it for the next eight days because I still have enough left to last that long."

"You're making progress, I'm proud of you."

Beth smiled at her sister, accepting a small hug.

Slowly the older sister pulled back, settling the magazine to the side. "We're meeting the boys at Tara's bar in a few hours so I'd thought we'd go home and check on dad, maybe find you something in my closet to wear. A little black dress, you're probably tired of all the pink and orange clothes in your closet."

"I love you, Maggie," Beth said softly, offering her sister a warm smile.

"I know, Bethy, I love you too."

Tara's bar was a small establishment surrounded by rundown clothing shops and apartments but in the nightlife, it seemed to stand out. There was a small gathering outside, a party of five, waiting for their table but the bouncer- who Maggie addressed as T-Dog -stood aside to let them in, offering his hopes for a good night.

"Thanks, T-Dog, you too," she chirped, grabbing Beth's hand to pull her inside. "That's Glenn there, your date must not be here yet."

They approached the table and Beth slid into the booth after Maggie, who was staring across the table at her boyfriend.

"This is Beth," she introduced, nudging her sister who immediately offered her hand.

"I'm Beth," the blonde said quickly. "Nice to meet you, Glenn."

The man laughed, shaking her hand. "Pleasure to meet you," he said. "Maggie tells me you just got home a few months ago. You glad to be back home? Can't imagine being away from Georgia for thirteen months."

"The clinic wasn't really my choice," she said bitterly, noticing the discomfort suddenly fill the air. "But it was for my own good."

Maggie let out a deep breath, laying a comforting hand over her sister's. "So, where's your friend?" she asked Glenn. "He not here yet?"

"In the bathroom, actually, that might be him now."

Daryl Dixon of all people wandered over and took a seat across from Beth, his eyes meeting hers in an awkward gaze before he cleared his throat, looking down at his hands instead.

"Daryl, this is-"

"Beth," she interrupted, smiling at him. "And you're Daryl Dixon. D-Do you remember me?"

"Nah, never met ya," he lied, leaning back to stretch.

The blonde cast him a hurtful glare which faded quickly into nothing.

Maggie elbowed her sister lightly, frowning at her. "I said 'are you hungry?' Do you want some chips or a burger?"

"I ate earlier."

"No," Maggie corrected. "You didn't. I asked if you wanted breakfast and you said you felt sick. It's been six hours, eat something, please."

"Maggie, Rosita said I can't eat for a bit after taking my Zoloft. Always makes me sick."

Her sister nodded but placed an order for fries anyway, telling Beth quietly that she could have them slowly throughout the night.

"What's Zoloft?" Glenn asked, noticing the way Beth's eyes snapped up at him quickly.

"Something she has to take for her illness, right, Bethy?"

The blonde nodded but Daryl knew that wasn't it.

"You pregnant or something?" he asked, regretting the words once they left his mouth.

"No," she answered coldly, slowly nibbling at a fry from her plate which had just been placed down by the waitress. "Not pregnant."

"Second guess was something for ya burns," Daryl pressed, not once missing the glares Glenn and his girlfriend were shooting him.

"No," she said, a little friendlier than before. "I sent my family's barn on fire."

"Why?"

She shrugged, sipping at her water as she stared at him, almost letting a smile pass her lips. "Didn't like it."

"Beth!" her sister scolded, obviously appalled by her sister's words.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Beth and Daryl shared mischievous looks which went unnoticed by the love-birds beside them. When Glenn was busy kissing Maggie over the table, Beth kicked Daryl's shin hard, smirking at his pain.

"Fu-" he started to yell but Beth stared at him.

"No, cussing, Daryl Dixon," but nothing could hide the teasing behind her words.

"So, Beth," Glenn said, trying his hardest to be interested in his girlfriend's little sister, "anything interesting you'd like to share?

"No, but Daryl, would you like to see my pill bottle?"

Maggie went red from anger and cut a fiery glance at her sister. "Bethy, behave yourself. I brought you out to socialise and meet my boyfriend, no need for you to be biting off comments that aren't suitable for the table."

Quickly the older sister went back to talking to her boyfriend, leaving Daryl to listen to Beth.

"My daddy's an alcoholic, mum's dead, brother Shawn moved away because I'm fucked up-"

"Beth!"

The little blonde stared at her sister innocently. "What, Maggie? Can't talk to my good friend, Daryl? Not like I'm inviting him inta my bed and stripping off my underwear. But, hey, Daryl, you wanna come home with me tonight? My bed needs breaking in."

"That's it, Elizabeth. Get your stuff, we're going home. If you can't behave yourself then I won't bring you next time and don't even think about leaving the house tonight to go and watch those stars you're so fond of. Apologise and say goodbye, Glenn, Daryl, walk us to our car."

Beth exited the booth silently, staying behind to talk quietly to Daryl.

"Sorry," she squeaked. "But, if you're up for it, I'll meet you the same place as last night, could use a stargazing buddy."

Awkwardly, Daryl accepted a kiss on the cheek from the pretty blonde who got in her car, Maggie already shouting her head off.

"Maggie seems nice," he retorted sarcastically.

"She's had it hard, man," Glenn said, shaking his head. "Dad's an alcoholic, Beth's suicidal, depressed and in therapy. She just got out of the clinic two months ago after trying to kill herself twice after her mother died."

"Beth?"

"Yeah," his friend confirmed. "Beth. I mean, they're a messed up family but they're trying."


	4. It's A Wonderful Life

_"And for another thing, how dare you embarrass me like that in front of Glenn. You're a civilised person now Beth, a member of society, so act like it."_

The blonde settled herself on the grass, glancing around impatiently to see if Daryl had decided to meet her under the stars again. There were a few times she'd crossed her fingers because she heard rustling but it turned out to be a rabbit or a squirrel, just going about its business.

_"How would mum like to know that she raised this?" Maggie said, gesturing to all of Beth with her free hand, the other gripping the steering wheel._

She sipped the water from her bottle, not able to disguise the shake in her fingers. It was a cold night and she regretted not bringing something to keep her warm. Her floral print sundress was not doing a good job in keeping the cold wind off her body.

_"You invited Daryl Dixon of all people into your bed," Maggie hissed. "You're no longer a teenage girl, Beth. You can't go around joking about stuff like that and getting yourself into trouble."_

Beth put the cap on her drink bottle, settling it in the grass as she laid down to look up at the sky. Maybe Rosita was right. Maybe she wanted to be a star because she wanted to die. No matter how hard she tried to find a star that resembled her mother, there was none and Beth Greene's star theory was not going to be wrong.

_"'Didn't like it'..." Maggie scoffed. "What were you thinking, Beth? You tried to kill yourself and all you can say is that you burnt the barn down with yourself inside because you didn't like it?"_

The only way she was going to find Daryl Dixon was if she laid down and prayed he was drunk and stumbling around in the field. It'd be a hell of a silly thing for him to trip over her again.

_"I told everyone I'd take care of you and dad. Patricia and Otis left because I couldn't. I let you attempt suicide twice and I let Daddy fall off the wagon and they left like Shawn because I can't look after my own darn family!"_

Eventually, when the first glint of dawn light shone on the ground and illuminated the trees, Daryl found her.

"D'you really not remember me?" she asked quickly, barely giving herself time to adjust to the newfound sunlight drifting its way towards her. "You said at dinner that you didn't remember me but I'm sure you do-"

"I do," he groaned.

"The whole point of stargazing is being here at night when it's dark and you can actually see the stars," she pointed out, trying her best not to be rude because Maggie constantly told her how it drove people away and Beth couldn't lose anyone else.

_"What can I do, Beth? You're losing your mind and you only got back from the clinic two months ago. We have a month until Christmas and I don't wanna send you back, not for Christmas, not again."_

Daryl lowered himself beside her, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath.

Beth turned to watch him as he stared up at the sky, eyes moving back and forth across it like he was searching for the answers to the universe in the early morning sky. When he moved to gaze at her, he met her eyes awkwardly.

"I have a theory," she said. "The stars are really people and in each star is a universe which contains all that person's memories and hopes and dreams. And I think that everyone that's ever been lost is up there, as a star. It would explain why there's so many and why there's shooting stars. Shooting stars are people being born. If stars are dead people then shooting stars are alive people who are being made, they're falling to the ground and as they're falling, they're gaining hopes and dreams so when they die, that star will appear in the sky."

Daryl didn't say anything, just continued to stare up at her.

"So, I think my mum is up there. She's that one there, to the left a little. The brightest one because she was the happiest person I know. And one day, we'll be up there. I have a theory for soul mates too, if you want to hear."

He didn't say anything, just raised his eyebrows to signal for her to continue talking.

"I think-"

"Ya think a lot."

"I spent a lot of time in the clinic," she replied, not missing the pained look that crossed his face. "Anyway, when the Earth started out, we had Adam and Eve, right? Well, as the Earth grew and so did the population, God had to make more people and you and I, we were hand-crafted. So, say we were soul mates, God made us at the beginning of the world together and when the time was right, he placed us carefully through time so our whole life, we would be seeking the other person. Not only that, but souls are reincarnated through time but they're clean slates each time and the only thing that remains is their connection to their soul mate so our souls are old, like, beginning of the Earth old, and despite that, we still have a connection to our soul mates."

Daryl nodded and Beth had barely noticed she'd moved closer to him. "I think Maggie and Glenn are soul mates," she whispered, unsure of how to deal with the sudden closeness. "And I think we both have soul mates out there, just waiting to meet us."

"Dixons don't have soul mates," he said, voice gruff.

"Maybe not your dad or brother, but you do."

"How d'you know that?"

Beth bit down on her bottom lip which was already raw. "I just do," she innocently said, smiling softly.

She wanted to kiss him because she hadn't kissed someone in eleven months and because it was so inviting. He'd probably shy away from her and go home to scrub his mouth out with soap and smoke cigarettes until the taste of her was out of his mouth.

Daryl stiffened as she moved closer and then, ever so slowly, she pressed hesitant lips against his, not trying to disguise the anxiety building.

When she finally pulled back, removing her hand from his cheek, he was watching her carefully. "Sorry," she squeaked.

Then without a second thought, she moved back towards him, kissing him again and this time, he moved his own lips against hers, kissing her back much to her own surprise. His lips were bitter but Beth ruled that to smoking and alcohol and because he didn't look like the kind of guy to eat strawberries.

Carefully, she let her lips freeze against his before pulling back.

"That was nice," she whispered, a smile consuming her face. "I should probably go home, Maggie will be looking for me by now and if I don't go back she'll call Officer Grimes and send out a town-wide search party."

She went to get back up but leaned back in for another kiss- this one quick- before standing. "I'll leave the blanket here," she said, eyes shining in the early morning sunlight. "You can bring it back again. Give you a reason to come and see me again."

And without a further word, she picked her bottle up from the ground and walked off, the sound of her singing softly to herself heard by Daryl's ears.

_"If you think I'm letting you go out again, you're dreaming, Beth. We're done, I gave you a chance and you ruined it; for me, Glenn, Daryl. You're immature and childish, what was sabotaging the meeting going to get you? I thought you'd want to meet my boyfriend, maybe find a guy of your own but... I don't even know anymore."_

Beth twisted the doorknob quietly in her hand, thankful the house lights were all off. Maggie had probably retired to bed, not thinking twice about saying goodnight to her sister after the awful way she behaved.

Beth climbed the stairs, tiptoeing to her room before inching the door open. There was something on the bed, a piece of paper.

_'I got a call about dad, emergency. Got to go get him again, it's important. Stay safe, Beth.'_

As if the blonde needed another reason to lose sleep.

She crawled into bed after stripping off her sundress- an ugly pink fabric covered in yellow and orange flowers that were an eye-sore- and stared out her bedroom window.

Maggie got home twenty-minutes later, crying, and Beth pulled herself out of bed, quickly. By the time she made it downstairs, Rick Grimes was in her kitchen, talking in hushed tones to her older sister.

"Mags?" she said softly, suddenly aware her half-naked pale body was on show. "Why are you crying?"

"Dad," her sister choked. "H-He got into an accident driving home and he's in the hospital."

"He dead?" Beth sniffed. "Like mum?"

Rick pulled off his Sheriff jacket, passing it to Beth who was shaking but not from the cold. She pulled it on, nodding a small thanks to the family friend.

"Not dead but..." Maggie said simply. "Beth, it was the same road. Same road as mum. Paramedics said it wasn't an accident. Cars don't skid off roads like that, not like he did. Dad crashed on purpose, he's in the hospital, stable condition."

Beth felt her eyes burn with tears but refused to shed them. "He tried to kill himself?"

"He's an alcoholic, maybe it was just-"

"Maggie," Beth sighed. "Dad tried to kill himself, it wasn't an accident or some crazy drunk decision. Guess he's like me, huh? I mean, I didn't run myself off the road, but..."

"I should let you guys get some rest, I'll call in the morning to tell you about Hershel," Rick said, standing. "Thanks for the coffee Maggie." He turned to Beth and offered a sad smile. "Keep the jacket for a bit, looks good on you."

And for the fourth night in a room, she didn't get a wink of sleep.


End file.
